


Home Again

by noifsandsorbees



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noifsandsorbees/pseuds/noifsandsorbees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes two minutes of silence from the time Mulder knocks on Scully’s door for him to give up and finger the key in his pocket. He still doesn’t feel quite right using it, just letting himself in at all times, as if she’d asked him to be a part of her family instead of just donating to the process. No, he corrects himself immediately, it is their family, she’s all but said so, and suddenly he needs to see them so badly that nothing can stop him from pulling that key out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Again

It takes two minutes of silence from the time Mulder knocks on Scully’s door for him to give up and finger the key in his pocket. He still doesn’t feel quite right using it, just letting himself in at all times, as if she’d asked him to be a part of her family instead of just donating to the process. No, he corrects himself immediately, it is _their_ family, she’s all but said so, and suddenly he needs to see them so badly that nothing can stop him from pulling that key out.

He pushes the door open cautiously and enters the dark room. His eyes immediately jump to Scully, asleep on the couch with only the softest of light from a tableside lamp illuminating her face. He’s only been alive again for a couple of weeks and few things feel right, but as he crouches on the floor next to her and runs a hand through her hair, he’s finally starting to feel like he belongs again. She’s snoring softly and her arms hang limply over the side of the couch; a line of drool is falling onto the cushion and a greasy chopstick is twisted in her hair. She is beautiful and she is comfort and she is home, he thinks.

Scully wakes under his touch, eyes fluttering before focusing on his face. “Mmh hi,” she whispers, spitting a piece of hair out from her lips.

“Hey,” he whispers back, trying to learn for the hundredth time this week every hue of blue in her eyes.

“William finally fell asleep, I must have dozed off,” she murmurs and lifts herself up on her elbow.

“How was he tonight?”

“He was fine. I picked him up from my mom’s, he fed without any problems but then it took a good two hours to get him to sleep.”

“So I shouldn’t go wake him?”

“He’ll be up again in a few hours,” she says, and she’s so tired but she’s smiling in pure contentment and it's contagious. Mulder rests his forehead against hers and lets himself simply relax for a moment. 

“I'm a mom,” she finally sighs, her smile so bright that he can’t help but kiss her. He melts into her lips and realizes that they should be doing this so much more. This is only the third time he’s kissed her since he’s been back; even lying in her bed each night he feels too strange to do anything more than stare at the ceiling until he falls asleep. But her mouth is warm against his, a welcoming mix of sweet and sour sauce and some weird spinach-strawberry smoothie she can’t get enough of this month because a magazine told her it's good for the baby, and he never wants to taste anything else.

Mulder pulls back with a smirk and untangles one chopstick from her hair and eases another from under her shoulder. He leans back onto the table to grab a piece of chicken and pops it into his mouth, then picks up another and places it in hers.

“Chinese again? You’re really on a kick this week,” he teases with a full mouth.

“Have to make up for the last nine months. That’s a long time without sweet and sour chicken.”

He feeds her another piece and relaxes at the unexpected ease of the moment.

“Are you sure I can’t wake him up?” Mulder asks shyly.

“He needs to sleep. I’m sure he’ll be up soon.”

“Okay,” he sighs, resigned, before sticking the chopsticks back in the carton and stealing another bite.

“Can you believe it?” she whispers.

“Hhm?”

“We have a son Mulder. Right in the next room. A mini you and me.”

It’s the first time he’s heard her say that, just the small confirmation he needs to let go, and his heart is ready to burst out of his chest and finally acknowledge that he’s really home. Scully’s not just simply letting him be a part of her child’s life, she’s calling him theirs, biologically and emotionally. One day William might even call him Dad and he’s so overwhelmed at the thought that he can’t breathe.

“What are you thinking?” she whispers. bringing a hand to cup his cheek.

Mulder’s trying to find the right words when she repeats the question, harsher this time. And again. And then _God, what the fuck?_ His head is aching and his ribs feel nearly broken in half or maybe even quarters, and he’s ready to double over from the pain. The cement is cold against his bare skin and Scully and her warmth are gone.

“What are you thinking?” The voice is stern now, coming from a baton and steel-toed boots.

 _William and Scully and home_ , he’s thinking on repeat. And suddenly he understands that there’s only one way to get there.

“What should I be thinking?” he asks, voice steady.

“You’re a guilty man. You entered a government facility illegally in search of non-existent information. You failed in every respect.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I'm a guilty man. I failed in every respect. I deserve the harshest punishment for my crime.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the XF Writing Challenge food prompt and this inbox prompt: I wish you would write a fic where greasy chopsticks are included as well as a lamp on the lowest setting BUT it's a dream and we don't know it until the end


End file.
